Blood Flows Deep in the Empire Page 7

Ismini pointed at the hat, looking back and forth between Eve and Zen. “Hat.”

  Eve stopped and looked up toward her hat. “What?”

  “Ismini means to convey her gratitude for helping me come up with this idea, Evesse.” Cyake placed his hand on Ismini’s upper back and led her deeper into the room. “And,” he mumbled, looking down at her out of the corner of his eyes, “she will also not interfere with my matchmaking genius, correct?”

  “Huh?” Ismini stared up at him, convinced that the God of Divination was out of his ever-loving mind. Even if there was an attraction between those two, neither would ever give in to it.

  Right?

  The others came forward in a rush, each of them offering her a hug and birthday wishes. Ismini felt her throat tighten. She pushed back her exhaustion and her misgivings, managing to give each of the gods a smile.

  It wasn’t lost on her that Dyletri wasn’t amongst them. Actually, she hadn’t seen him for two days now. He’d just left her, sick and confused, not giving a damn. Which was to be expected right? She obviously didn’t mean anything to him, so why would he stick around?

  Still, pathetic as she was, Ismini couldn’t help but wonder where exactly he’d run off to.

  I will not ask. I will not ask.

  “He’s off taking care of business,” Cyake said in a low voice.

  Guess I didn’t have to.

  “How is it that you do that annoying thing again?” she asked.

  “I see everyone’s future decisions within a three second span.”

  “Even when I change my mind.”

  “Even when you change your mind. It’s quite funny when you fuckers do.”

  Ianthen draped his arm over Ismini’s shoulder and directed her away from Cyake. “We each got you a little something.” A box appeared in his hand and he handed it to her, smiling.

  Yeah, okay. Little. “Thanks, Ianthen.” She smiled up at him as they came to a stop before one of the buffet tables. Sillizi rushed forward and offered her a cup. “You can open these later,” she said.

  Ismini managed a smile for her as well. She took another look around, noticing for the first time the banners hanging between the pillars. Two of them had the customary “Happy Birthday Ismini” on them. The other two . . .

  “Cyake,” she growled, knowing he was responsible.

  Cyake grinned and pointed at a smirking Ianthen. “He put up the second one.”

  Ismini looked at the other gods in the room. The ones she’d assumed had common sense. Obviously, she’d been wrong. “And you guys let them put it up?”

  She shook her head and looked away, trying really hard to ignore the fact that one of those signs seriously started with: “There’s an easy way for people your age to add a little variety to your sex life . . .”

  “That’s more like a perverted birthday card greeting.” Ismini glared at Cyake. “And you’re a pervert for putting it up.”

  “But that’s the one Ianthen picked.”

  Vedlyl walked up to Ismini, a large smile on his face. She blinked up at him, noticing the dimple on the corner of his mouth for the first time. “I told them they’re sick. I’m technically a doctor, and they still don’t believe me.” He surprised Ismini, wrapping his arms around her and giving her a light hug. “Happy Birthday.”

  Ismini pressed her lips together, waiting for something to hit her. Anything. Why the hell was her body not reacting to any of the gods in that room? Especially the uber-hot one currently holding her up to his beautifully sculpted chest, damn it.

  “Thank you.” She smiled up shyly at him, returning his hug and stepping back.

  Liz clapped her hands. “Okay. What do you want to do first?”

  “Eat.”

  “I wasn’t talking to you, Cyake. It’s Ismini’s party.”

  “But I’m hungry.”

  Liz stomped her foot, her irises shuttering between gray and black like a camera lens. “You don’t need to really eat, motherfucker.” The lights in the room flickered, looking like they were about to burst before settling back to normal. She turned back to Ismini, eyes returning to their light gray shade. “Sorry, he drives me insane. Now, what do you want to do, hun?”

  Ismini swallowed heavily. “Food sounds good.” Eve came up to her and looped their arms, leading her toward a large settee.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked, urging Ismini to sit down.

  Shitty. Desperate. Confused. So angry at myself that I want to rip off my own skin. “I’m fine.”

  Evesse stared at her out of the corner of her eye. “Uh-huh.”

  Ismini forced herself to hold her stare. “What’s that supposed to mean?” She should’ve kept her mouth shut. Eve pounced on that question, sidling up to her and nailing her with a hard look.

  “What’s going on between you and Dyletri?”

  What the hell? Was it written on her face or something? That question sliced through Ismini, the truth behind the answer mocking her. “Nothing,” she mumbled under her breath. And that really was the truth, wasn’t it? It didn’t matter that she had been attracted to him for years before actually meeting him.

  It certainly didn’t matter that that attraction had now morphed into something that was both physically and emotionally catastrophic. She was on a path that meant certain death, no matter what.

  Eve was still giving her that disbelieving look. Annoyed, Ismini rolled her eyes. “He’s sacrificing me, as you now know. That’s all.”

  “And why are you just letting him do so?”

  “If he doesn’t, bad things happen. As in, millions of innocents might be hurt.” Bitterness was truly the type of emotion that could be tasted. Ismini took another sip of her soda even though its sweetness could do nothing to overcome the acrid flavor at the back of her throat. The look on Eve’s face didn’t make the situation any better. “Stop looking at me like that.”

  Of course, Eve didn’t.

  “I think it’s really funny how you think I’m just letting this happen to you.”

  Ismini sighed. “Evesse, let’s not talk about this anymore. Supersonic hearing abounds in this place.”

  “Whatever. I haven’t asked to be taken home because I’m not letting it happen. Period.”

  Zeniel came up to them, offering each of them a plate. His gray-blue eyes were slightly blood-shot, but he had a small smile on his face. Ismini nibbled on her lip, sneaking a peek at Eve as Zen handed her the plate.

  And, yeah, Evesse was avoiding his stare and there was a pink tinge forming on her cheeks.

  Zen knelt in front of them and stared up at Ismini. She met his stare, feeling a soothing fog descending on her head.

  “You really feeling all right? You gave us all a scare when you first got here.”

  Ismini nodded. She was having a hard time pulling her stare away from his. “What are you doing?” She shook her head. Nope, no go. She was still being held prisoner by what she knew was somehow coming off him.

  “Sorry.” Zen smirked and shrugged almost shyly. “Can’t control it. It’s what I do when I sense someone’s grid is off.”

  “Grid? What grid?”

  “You’re tranquility grid. I can sense and see that your emotions are . . . not calm, to put it lightly.”

  Ismini nodded, understanding dawning. “So you calm people.”

  Eve choked on her food. Coughing, she held a finger up and shook her head at Ismini. “I beg to differ. He’s infuriating.”

  Zen blinked slowly, trying to guard his expression, but Ismini could still see the frustration in his eyes.

  She saw Cy’s gloating look from across the room. Oh . . . damn you, Cyake.

  “Okay. Now stop that.” Ismini waved her fork in Zen’s direction. “I feel like I’m high on something.”

  He laughed and stood up. He was still chuckling when he stepped back, shaking his head.

  She turned and pinned Eve with a stare. “We need to talk about this.”

  Eve didn’t even blink. “No, we don�
��t. Remember?”

  Cy walked back in Ismini’s direction, shoving an entire cheeseburger into his mouth. Yup, in one bite.

  “I know you think you’re my new best friend, but I have explained to you that this is a delusion you’re having,” Ismini said.

  He stopped right in front of her, glowering. He swallowed what was in his mouth all at once, leaving Ismini gaping and slightly repulsed. “Shut up and eat, smartass. I’ve been dying to play this game.”

  Sillizi looked like she was fighting for patience. “I don’t understand your fascination with that stupid game. You are not going to get to play that, it was explained to you, Cy.”

  Eve grimaced. “Okay. Now I’m scared. What game?”

  “Me, too. Seriously, which game are we talking about?” Ismini asked.

  “Pin the tail—”

  “Oh, hell no. We aren’t five, Cyake.”

  He crossed his arms. “Do you honestly think I have small mortals running around, willing to play this game with me? And these fidiots agreed that they might play if you guys do. It’s on my bucket list.”

  “You’re immortal,” Eve shot back.

  “Not completely. What if existence comes to a halt tomorrow?”

  Ismini set her plate aside. “Okay. Okay. I might be down to do this—”

  “See, Iss? That’s why I love you!”

  “You just met me. Now shut it, I’m still debating the risks of this decision.”

  Cyake scoffed. “What risks?”

  She ignored him and stared at Sil. “He’s a cheater, isn’t he? No, wait. Don’t answer that, I know he is. Is there some kind of way to keep him from cheating?”

  “Make him vow it,” Sil said smirking.

  “You’re both full of shit.”

  Ismini raised her eyebrows and shrugged. “Take it or leave it, but I’m not playing this stupid game without your vow.”

  “You’re serious? You’re gonna play pin the tail on the donkey?” Eve asked.

  “We’re gonna play, Eve. Now vow it, Cy.”

  “I vow it.” Cy’s golden aura flared around him for a few seconds before appearing to slide back into his skin. “There? Now can we play?”

  “You’ve both lost your damned minds. But I’m in.” Eve got up and placed her plate on the table.

  Ismini didn’t miss the sly smirk on Cy’s face. Somehow, she was sure Zeniel had been talked into this game, as well. “This is really going to be interesting.”

  “Remember, you agreed to this first,” Eve said as Cy walked up to them, a blindfold in his hands and a large smile on his face. “And I’m going to kill you myself if this mofo manages to cop a feel of me while I’m blind.”

  Chapter 9

  Eight days later.

  -Enzyria. Lower level, living room area and sparring quarter.

  “Look who’s back. Where you been, D-Man?”

  Dyletri rolled his eyes as he walked into one of the living rooms on the lower level of the compound.

  Cyake was sitting on the massive, black sectional in front of the 108-inch LCD. He had a bowl of popcorn in his hand.

  “Seriously, Cy. I sometimes wish you’d act more like the ancient being you are.”

  “Ugh. Don’t tell me you’re gonna be all moody just like Zen’s been. ’Cause if I have to handle another god on PMS—”

  “Fuck you, asshole.” Dyletri walked up to Cy and ripped the bowl of popcorn out of his hands.

  “Hey!”

  “Sharing is caring.” He shoved a handful into his mouth and turned his attention back to the television.

  That’s right, he was pretending like everything was just peachy fucking keen. Like he hadn’t just spent the last seven days making sure the Fates knew their sacrifice was coming and hating himself because of it. Like there wasn’t something eating him alive ever since.

  As if pretending would make this ache go away.

  Even now, standing two feet behind Cyake, Dyletri’s cock was rock hard and begging him to palm it, at the very least. Or better yet, give in and find the luscious girl he intended to sacrifice so he could feel every sweet inch of her body.

  He wondered if she had listened to him. Had she used her toy, moaning his name and arching her back as she came? Imagining it was him? Fuck, had she?

  By the Gods, you’re an asshole, Dyletri. Weren’t you in love with someone else?

  That was the crux of the matter. He had been in love with Dimithinia, hadn’t he? So why the hell was he having these insane and violent reactions for another woman? For the very one he’d sentenced to die?

  Scared. He was actually scared. His control was on a razor’s edge, and he was starting to doubt his will to see the sacrifice through. Even though didn’t have a choice.

  “You’re seriously watching this shit? Are you trying to rot your brain? This is what we waste all the valuable energy it takes to get the signal in here for?”

  Most of the gods were obsessed with the human world and all the little nuances of it. Everything humanity had accomplished without having higher powers thrilled them. It was why they kept human technology in other realms. It was why they’d learned to dress and talk the way the humans did. There was something to be said for immersion.

  But in all seriousness, it did take a shitload of energy to get the television and Internet signals into their realm, and Cy was wasting it watching garbage.

  Reality TV, you are possibly the lowest humanity has fallen in a long time. I mean this.

  Cy reached up and managed to take the bowl back before Dyletri could stop him. “Yup. Just as bad as Zen. Bitching already.”

  “Why’s Zen bitching anyway?” Dyletri was hoping to keep Cy’s focus on Zen’s problem and away from his own. Especially because he couldn’t even begin to understand what the hell was wrong with him.

  Liar.

  What was that?

  Cy shoved more popcorn in his mouth. “ ’Cause he’s in denial, that’s why.”

  Dyletri’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Cy. “In denial?”

  “Mm-hmm. I mean, I don’t even know why he’s trying. Chick’s hot.”

  “Who—” Dyletri began to ask, but then it hit him. “Oh fuck.” He rubbed a hand over his face.

  “So is that Ismini girl. Any chance you’d be okay with me getting to know her before you decide to offer her up like a pig for the slaughter?”

  Dyletri jerked back and saw red. Sheer red. Violent, throbbing, thumping, pulsating, shrieking red. Red mixed with visions of Cy’s head being torn right off his body. And Cy was one of Dyletri’s closest friends and allies. Someone he’d known for thousands of Earth years.

  What the fuck is wrong with me?

  “By the way, we threw her an awesome belated birthday party. You missed out, man!”

  Dyletri didn’t trust himself to answer Cy. He was afraid of what might come out of his mouth, so he just turned and rushed out of the living room, ignoring the fucker when Cy called out to him.

  He forced himself to keep going.

  He heard the sound of someone sparring outside. Deciding that he needed someone to punch—and wishing it was Cy for some reason—he made his way out to the sparring range. It wasn’t until he got out there that he realized what a mistake he’d made.

  For some fucked-up reason, Ismini and Evesse were the ones facing off in the middle of the sandy arena.

  Even worse. He could see skin.

  Too. Much. Fucking. Skin.

  What the hell is she wearing?

  Oh, but Dyletri knew. He knew. And he knew who was responsible, too. Sil looked over at him and waved oh so cheerfully. Fucking shit . . .

  Most of his friends were there. If he could even consider those traitors such a thing. Dyletri glared at Liz and Sil who seemed to have just finished a round.

  He turned his head and saw Ian waving and heading his way. “There he is. Dy!”

  Dyletri wanted to ask him if there’d been any sightings of Enteax and Lisrn but couldn’t speak. His eyes were lo
cked on Ismini. She was in tight-as-fuck leather pants, fighting boots, and what had to be a corset top that belonged to one of the twins. Oh, and her hair. Shiny, dark brown and black hair that fell down her back in thick waves.

  “Ah! Zen. You’re here, too.”

  That caught Dyletri’s attention. And only because he heard Zen walk into a stone pillar behind him.

  “Ow! Son of a bitch!”

  The thing rattled, almost breaking apart before re-forming itself.

  “You okay?” Ian came to a stop next to them. “Come to think of it, Dy, you’re not looking so good, either.”

  Thank you, Mr. Fucking Obvious.

  “What are they doing?” Dyletri asked, his voice hard.

  It wasn’t as if he didn’t have an idea what was going on. He’d seen that Ismini had taken self-defense classes with her friend when he’d seen into her memories.

  Still, that didn’t mean he had to be happy with what was about to take place in front of him.

  “They took up martial arts together. Taekwondo and kickboxing, I think. About to go one-on-one.” Ian shrugged like it was no big deal. And for him, it wasn’t. But for Dyletri?

  Was Ian fucking staring at Ismini’s ass?

  “What are you looking at?”

  Ian’s response was eloquent. “Huh?”

  Dyletri barely held in his growl. “Listen here—”

  “Seriously, Ian. I know you’re the God of the Hunt, but must you hunt down every female in your presence?”

  Ianthen’s twin, the Goddess of the Wild, walked into the sparring area, her long, midnight blue hair flashing in the sun. The feminine version of her brother, Ianythi shared his exact coloring.

  Ianythi’s delicate voice sounded amused as she stared at the arena. “Hello, gentlemen. What have we here? You found yourselves two worthy humans?”

  “Seems so. That one right there—the really, really hot brunette—is Dyletri’s sacrifice.”

  Dyletri was a mere second away from wrapping his hands around Ian’s neck as, heart thundering, he forced himself to step back. He clenched his fists and shoved them in his pockets but decided right then that he was sparring with Ian next.

  “And the other is Zen’s new torment. Also very, very, very, very hot.”